"You managed to make it," said Gerald, "so the plan must have worked."
"It did," said the Enchanter, "though it took some time to get it perfected."
"I wonder," said Anna, "if the ice will slow our advance. Perhaps we should wait until spring?"
"No, Highness," replied Osbourne, "I can get the ships through. As I said, it was more about learning the actual technique. Melting the ice with magical flame is very easy in theory, but if it's not done properly, it simply re-freezes. I think I've solved that problem. Give the crews the night to rest, and we shall be ready to get back at it at first light."
"Excellent," said Anna, "then the advance to Colbridge can begin."
Nine
Colbridge
Winter 961/962 MC
Gerald let out a breath, the chilly winter air misting it before his eyes. "It's cold," he observed.
"Not as bad as I expected," said Anna. "How are the troops doing?"
He looked to the marching army. They were heading south, following the riverbank while keeping their supply ships in sight at all times. "Their morale is good," he said, "far better than I would have thought after a long march."
"They're competing," said Anna.
"What do you mean?"
"They're trying to outdo each other. The Mercerians from Kingsford want to out-march the Weldwyners, and the Weldwyners can't stand to see the Kurathians out-pace them."
"Ah well," said Gerald, "at least it keeps them moving. How are the others doing?"
"The whole army is in good spirits. I think they're all expecting victory. You know, you're developing quite the reputation."
"I'm just doing my job," he grumbled, glancing out to the river.
He watched as the Fire Mage, Osbourne, stood at the prow of the lead ship, waving his hands. A moment later, an area of flame appeared on the ice a few yards ahead of them, its colour the distinctive blue of magic. Nothing happened for a moment, and then with a cracking noise, the top of the ice turned back to water. The ship kept sailing, easily smashing through the now thin ice.
"Quite effective," said Anna. "It is a clever idea."
"It would have worked better had we more mages," mused Gerald. "Our Weldwyn Fire Mage can only cast so many spells in a day; it's actually slowing us down."
"Not really," said Anna. "We still have to take time to set up camp each day. The progress so far has been excellent, much better than I would have expected, especially considering it's winter time."
He watched the ship inch forward. "I remember when we sailed upriver to Falford the first time."
"Yes," said Anna, "and you didn't like the water. You got over it by the time we left, though."
"I suppose I did," he replied.
Anna returned her attention to the army marching by, "Where's Beverly? I haven't seen her all morning."
"I sent her and Hayley ahead of us with some hand-picked troops."
"Oh? What do you have in mind for them?"
"I'd rather not say at this time," he replied, "it's a bit of a long shot, but Arnim's report gave me an idea."
"Don't you trust me?" she asked, her face a look of disappointment.
"I trust you completely," he replied quickly, "it's the ears of others I don't. If word got out about what I have planned, the tactic wouldn't work. I'll tell you about it later when I can be sure no one else is listening."
"Fair enough," she said, lapsing into silence.
A loud popping noise grabbed their attention, and they looked once more to the boats.
"What was that?" asked Anna.
"The ice," explained Gerald. "Sometimes when Osbourne casts his spell, the ice cracks into great chunks. I noticed it earlier."
"It's a good thing we're not trying to be stealthy," said Anna.
"Yes," he agreed, "if whoever commands the troops at Colbridge has any ability, he'd know we're coming by now."
"Why do you say that?"
"We're getting very close. I'm sure he would have heard of Kingsford's flipping to our side. Unless he's a fool, he'll have put out scouts to detect an enemy's approach."
"From what Arnim and Nikki told us, there are Knights of the Sword present."
"Yes," he agreed, "and likely this Sir Nigel is in charge of the defence. Beverly recognized the name; he's one of the senior knights of the order."
"Surely the duke would be in charge," countered Anna.
"The duke has no experience in these matters, and the poor condition of the walls tells us he has no interest. I rather suspect he was happy to have someone else take over his troops. This way, if he loses, he can claim to have taken no part in the fighting."
"I remember the duke," said Anna. "He wanted me to marry his son, do you remember?"
"I do. I remember threatening the son."
Anna turned in disbelief, "You threatened the son of a duke? You never told me that."
"He was being obnoxious and said some unkind things about you."
"I'm flattered," she said, "but you could have gotten yourself into some terrible trouble; you were only a guard at the time."
"It worked out in the end, and that's all that matters."
"You can still surprise me from time to time, Gerald."
"That's what I'm here for, Anna, to surprise you, and keep you safe."
The troops were moving quickly and soon came the Trolls with the sleds that carried the Dwarves. A cheer erupted from the passengers as they were pulled past.
"They seem happy," remarked Anna.
"And well they should be, they get to ride in those things, it's much better than trudging through the snow."
"We should get moving," she said. “The only unit left is the mastiffs, and they're some distance back to keep them from scaring the troops."
They fell in behind the Dwarves, well out of earshot.
"Tell me, Gerald, what is the biggest threat?"
"The knights," he replied, without any hesitation. "It all hinges on the knights."
"Why do you say that?"
"They can do the most damage to us. I suspect they'll be held back and used at a crucial moment. When that happens, we shall have to be ready for it."
"How will we know the right time?"
"We will have to tempt them. Knights are very effective but notoriously unreliable in battle. They'll attack whatever they think will give them the most glory."
"And you think that is..."
"You," he smiled.
"So I'm to be bait?"
"That's one way of looking at it, but don't worry, I'll keep you safe."
"I'm not worried," she replied. "I trust you, but what makes you think I'm their prime target?"
"That's easy," he said. "Once they know you're with us, they'll realize that killing or capturing you would end the entire rebellion."
"But the rebellion was spurred on by rumours of my death, wouldn't the same thing happen if they actually caught me?"
"I don't know, but at least the rebel army would be destroyed."
"I won't be captured again," declared Anna, "I'd rather die."
"Don't worry, you'll be perfectly safe, I guarantee it."
"How can you be so sure, Gerald? You can't always control a battle, the unexpected sometimes raises its head."
"I'll take precautions to protect you, Anna. If things go badly, we'll get you aboard the boats. They'll look after you in Weldwyn, if necessary."
"If it comes to that, I'm not going without you."
"If it turns out like that," he said grimly, "I'll probably already be dead."
"Then let's make sure the plan works."
"I'm with you on that," he said. "Now, where's that hound of yours?"
"He's back with the pack," said Anna.
Gerald glanced over his shoulder, "I still can't see them."
"Don't worry, they're not too far behind us."
"Don't they normally bark or something?"
"They do," she replied, "but they can smell you, Gerald, and so they're calm.
"
"I still find that disturbing."
"Of course you do."
* * *
By nightfall, the advance scouts reported that the walls of Colbridge were in sight. Early morning would see them forming up for battle, but for now, it was sufficient to put out pickets to watch for enemy raids.
Gerald wandered the camp, visiting his warriors. It was strange to think that not so long ago he was just a simple sergeant in Bodden. If it hadn't been for a strange twist of fate he might have remained there till his dying days, and he wondered, not for the first time if the Gods meddled in the affairs of men.
As he wound his way through the camp, he listened to conversations drifting by. There was the usual jesting of comrades; bragging of past conquests both on and off the battlefield, and their prowess in combat. Many of these men had never seen battle before, and he wondered how many would have to die before there was an end to this war. His fit of melancholy was interrupted by familiar voices, and he found himself approaching a campfire, around which sat Arnim and Nikki. Revi was there too, though he sat quietly, petting his familiar, the black bird known as Shellbreaker.
Gerald moved toward them, "I hope I'm not interrupting anything?"
"Of course not, General," said Nikki. "Come, join us, we've some cider here if you'd like?"
"No, thank you," Gerald replied. "I must keep my head clear, there is too much to look after."
"Don't worry," said Arnim, "I know exactly what I'm to do tomorrow."
"I never doubted it," said Gerald, "but it will be exceedingly dangerous; we've never tried something like this before."
"We were all at the siege of Riversend," Revi reminded him.
"Yes," agreed Gerald, "but we were the defenders. Now, the shoe is on the other foot, and we have to attack. Have you scouted the city?"
"Yes," replied the mage, "thanks to Shellbreaker, here, we have a very good idea of their numbers. It's much as Arnim reported, they haven't changed anything."
"Good, then we can proceed with my plan. Now remember, Arnim, the timing is extremely important. If you linger in the breach for too long, you'll take massive casualties. After the siege, we still have to conduct a campaign, so we can't afford significant losses."
"I won't let you down," promised Arnim, then chuckled.
"Something you want to share?" asked Nikki.
Arnim's laughter died down, "I was just trying to imagine the look on Sir Nigel's face when I ride up to the gate to demand their surrender."
She nudged him with her elbow, "You have the sickest sense of humour. With all this death looming, how can you find something so entertaining?"
"I'm happy, and why wouldn't I be. I have you by my side. If I die tomorrow, it will be with a smile on my face."
"Well," she retorted, "if you die tomorrow I won't be happy at all. You will look after yourself, Arnim Caster, do you hear me?"
"Of course," he said, with an exaggerated nod of his head.
"Revi," prompted Gerald, "why the long face?"
"It's Hayley," added Nikki. "He misses her, but he won't admit it."
"She's my lucky charm," mumbled the mage.
"Let's hope her luck rubs off on us all tomorrow," said Gerald. "I'm sorry I had to take her from you, but she and Beverly have a very important role to play."
"I understand," said Revi.
"You should get some sleep," prompted Gerald. "You all should, it'll be a busy day tomorrow."
"You should follow your own advice," suggested Arnim.
"Hah! That's a good one," said Gerald. "Me, sleep before a battle, if only I were so lucky."
Gerald turned and left them, wandering off to the next fire.
"Where's he going?" asked Revi. "Shouldn't he sleep?"
"He won't sleep," said Arnim, "he'll probably find Tempus and wander the lines all night long. He'll be tired in the morning, but the rush of battle will keep him going."
"And how about you?" asked the mage. "How will you sleep tonight?"
"Quite well," replied the knight, standing. He held out his hand to Nikki, "Come along, my love, it's time we were abed."
"Good night, Revi," said Nikki, "we'll see you in the morning."
* * *
Lord Reginald Anglesley, Duke of Colbridge, gazed out from the battlements of the city. The rising sun had burned off the early morning mist to reveal enemy troops arrayed to the north. He had hurriedly dressed in his best armour and now stood, watching the enemy's movements.
Sir Nigel, the commander of the Knights of the Sword, walked up beside to join him in his observations.
"Well?" asked the duke. "What do you make of them?"
"Rabble," replied the knight, "no doubt about it. I rather suspect they were hurriedly armed and are likely poorly led."
The duke moved closer to the parapet to get a better view. "What is that flag?" he asked. "I don't recognize it."
Sir Nigel swept a discerning eye over the enemy lines. "A red bar over green. I've never seen its like. I see the banner of the Duke of Kingsford, his men are deployed over there," he pointed. "The others I don't recognize. There's also a strange banner over yonder that looks quite foreign."
"That's the banner of the Kurathian Princes," said the duke. "I've read about them."
"Kurathians!" the knight spat in disgust. "They're nothing but mercenaries. They can't be counted on."
"I might remind you that Merceria was founded by mercenaries."
"Yes," objected the knight, "but we've come a long way since then. You must feel a great sense of relief."
"Why is that?"
"Because you have the Knights of the Sword to serve you, Lord. We have never been defeated in battle."
"I wish I had your confidence," muttered the duke.
"Let me ride forth now, Your Grace. I can polish off these usurpers in no time."
The duke was about to reply when movement caught his eyes. "Something's happening."
Sir Nigel focused his attention back to the enemy line. More troops joined them, emerging from the distant tree line and began forming up. A small group moved quickly forward, bows clearly visible in their hands. "Elves," he swore. "I remember seeing them at Eastwood. Luckily, there aren't too many. Shall I ride forth?"
"No, I think we should wait, there may be more troops arriving. One must have a good idea of the enemy's strength before attacking, don't you agree?"
"There is wisdom in your words, Your Grace."
They watched as another group emerged, this time on the eastern flank of the rebel line. These moved much slower and the early morning sun glinted off of armour.
"Dwarves," said the duke. "How in the Three Kingdoms did they get Dwarven troops? They don't live anywhere near here."
"It seems they're full of surprises," commented Sir Nigel. "See how they're anchoring the end of their line? An important placement, they must think highly of them."
"So we have a large group of Human troops flanked by Dwarves and Elves. I wonder what else they might have up their sleeves. Where's their cavalry?"
"I expect they're keeping them in reserve," said Sir Nigel. "Though I doubt they'd compare favourably with our knights. Look, I see a rider leaving their lines."
He pointed, and the duke watched as a lone rider headed for the main gatehouse. "Let's get down there and see what the villain wants."
It was a short walk from the wall to the gatehouse, which stood in the northeast corner of the city. Soon, they were staring down from the crenellations while the sole rider halted just before the massive doors.
"Who are you," called the duke, "that dares bring an army to my doorstep?"
"My name is Sir Arnim Caster," called out the rider, "Knight of the Hound and servant to Princess Anna of Merceria."
"Lies!" called out Sir Nigel. "You are nothing but a traitor and a scoundrel."
Ignoring the jibes, the messenger continued, "I am here on behalf of the princess to request you to lay down your arms and surrender the city. Do so now,
and you will avoid unnecessary bloodshed."
"Hah," called out the duke, "it is you that shall shed blood today. You and your rebellious army."
"Is that the answer you wish me to take to the princess?"
"I tell you what," offered the duke, "take your army and depart and I shall have no quarrel with you. What do you say to that?"
"Alas, I cannot agree to such terms. A siege will result in a great many deaths, on both sides. I offer to meet you on the field of battle. Let us settle this with honour."
"Honour? You have the gall to talk to us of honour? You're the ones fighting against the rightful king. You are nothing but traitors."
"I take it then," said Sir Arnim, "that you refuse the offer of battle?"
"We do," called out Sir Nigel. "Let your army come and grind themselves to death on our walls."
"Very well," Arnim said, then turned his horse to leave but halted for a moment. "I have one more message for you, Your Grace."
"Which is?" called out the duke.
"Before the week is out, this city shall be ours. When the walls come down, and they will come down, all those that oppose us will be put to the sword. I implore you to tell your troops not to resist the inevitable assault."
"Begone, vagrant!" yelled the duke. "I've had enough of your insolence."
The messenger rode off toward the troops formed up to the north.
The duke turned to his military commander, "What now? Do they expect to starve us out? Surely they realize we have lots of food."
"They haven't the men for an assault," said Sir Nigel, "and where are their siege engines?"
"Perhaps they thought we'd offer battle."
"I rather suspect their commander is inept. Maybe he thought we'd just cave in?"
There was some activity in the enemy ranks. The rider had returned, and now a small group of horsemen could be seen heading to the rear of their lines.
"What in the name of the Afterlife are they doing now?” demanded Sir Nigel.
The answer came shortly as new troops began to appear. The rebel line split in half, moving left and right to open up a gap in their centre. The reinforcements filled in the gap, their green skin clearly visible.
Fate of the Crown Page 9